


Whine After Whiskey

by ClagJanetSMK



Series: Whine After Whiskey [1]
Category: Scarecrow and Mrs. King
Genre: Adventure, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Anything else would be a spoiler - Freeform, Canon-Typical Violence, Drunken Shenanigans, F/M, Pre-Canon, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-10
Updated: 2020-02-10
Packaged: 2021-02-27 23:15:21
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 12
Words: 17,878
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22653853
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ClagJanetSMK/pseuds/ClagJanetSMK
Summary: An AU story about the first time Lee and Amanda met, and how it all went just a little bit wrong.This series is also posted to Fanfiction.net. I will transfer over the other stories as I find time.
Relationships: Amanda King/Lee Stetson
Series: Whine After Whiskey [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1629601
Comments: 9
Kudos: 20





	1. Checking In

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: none of these characters belong to me; they belong to Shoot the Moon Enterprises and Warner Bros to whom I am eternally grateful for the opportunity to take them out for a spin.

"Hi, Billy."

Lee's voice down the phone line had an odd tone to it that had Billy's hackles up in an instant. There was something in just those two words that reminded him of when his daughters phoned home, worried that they were going to be in trouble for whatever had just happened. It was not the usual cheerful cocky voice of one of his best agents, it was subdued and off-kilter.

"Scarecrow?" he responded, glancing at the clock on the wall. "Aren't you supposed to be on a flight back to Washington right about now?"

"Ahhh, yeah, well…it seems like I might be here a little bit longer."

Everything in Lee's voice suggested he was bracing for his boss to yell at him, but Billy had been a manager – and a father – long enough to know there's usually a good reason not to start shouting right away and that it's usually because you want to save the good yelling for later in the conversation.

"A little bit longer?" he repeated carefully. "Care to explain? Has something gone wrong with the case?"

Lee looked down at the handcuff fastened around his wrist and sighed. "No, nothing like that. It looks like there's some personal stuff I have to sort out first."

"With your uncle?" asked Billy, knowing Robert Clayton was posted nearby.

Unseen by Billy, Lee blenched at the idea of his uncle _ever_ finding out anything about this. "God no!" he answered immediately.

"So girl trouble then? As usual?" Billy managed to get just the right blend of sarcasm and disappointment into his response to make Lee wince.

"Not exactly," sighed Lee. "Look, with luck this shouldn't take more than a day to sort out and I'll be on the first flight out I can manage."

"See that you are," growled his boss. "And you'd better have come with a damn good reason why by the time you get here."

"Sure thing, Billy," Lee answered sounding distracted. "And um, thanks for understanding."

A muffled grunt of disapproval was all he got as he hung up, mind already racing trying to figure his way out of this predicament.

Lee looked back down at the sheet of paper in front of him, then at the door that had closed only a few minutes before. "Okay Stetson, let's get you out of this mess."


	2. When You Gotta Go...

The day had started as so many of his did.

Lee had woken up tangled in sheets, and with a head that pounded a lot less than he knew he deserved, given the previous night's activities celebrating the successful wrap-up of the case. Still, long experience had taught him that in his current state of hangover, it was best to do a general health check before trying to open his eyes so he began the standard routine: quick finger and toe flex, all still there, general body stretch, nothing that made him wince, quick swirl of the tongue around his mouth, teeth all accounted for – so far so good. He became aware that he was incredibly thirsty and knew with a sigh, that pounding head or not, he was going to have to move from the bed to deal with it. He could already tell it was going to be bad because even though he wasn't moving yet, the bed was moving and dipping as if he was. And then it got worse.

A warm hand slipped around his and squeezed it gently.

"Ummm, excuse me? Are you going to wake up soon? Because I really need to go and I'm pretty sure I've already missed my flight home and I don't know how I'm going to explain that to my mother. And my sorority sisters are probably tearing the hotel apart trying to find me when I didn't come back last night. Unless they ended up doing what we did but probably not because no matter what people say about how sorority girls are, we're really not and oh my gosh, I just really need you to wake up, please."

Lee froze and considered momentarily pretending to be dead or at least pretending to stay asleep until this girl left of her own accord. His brain scrambled trying to remember what had happened last night, and how desperate he must have been to have picked up a _child_ who was probably here on Spring Break. Well, no it can't be that because Spring Break doesn't happen in October and… he forced himself to take a deep breath and open his eyes.

The woman sitting beside him on the bed, wrapped loosely in the sheet and with her knees pulled up to her chin and with huge dark eyes observing him worriedly was so obviously not the college student he'd been expecting that he couldn't help grinning in relief.

"Do you always talk so much in the morning?" he couldn't help asking.

The woman – thank God it was a fully-grown _woman_ – suddenly relaxed with a husky chuckle. "Yes, I do. I'm sorry - I'm a morning person even when I'm hung over."

"Well, I'm not," he declared. His eyes trailed over her, the tousled bed head hair, the creamy skin, the gentle curve at the side of the breast he could just see peeking out from where she had the sheet pulled up in some semblance of modesty. "Except for one thing," he added, reaching out with his free hand to try and pull the sheet off her again.

"Oooh!" she squeaked, tightening her grip on it and suddenly looking panicked again. "Please don't!"

"Looks like I already did," he smirked, still pulling inexorably on the sheet. "Why so shy now?"

"Oh my gosh, please don't remind me! But we were drunk then and we're sober now and I really have to go!"

"It's usually even better when we're both sober," he teased. "Don't you want to find out? If you've already missed your flight, you're in no hurry, right?"

To his delight, the woman actually dimpled in amusement at his clumsy seduction techniques. "That's the least of my problems, Mister…uh."

"Lee."

"Mister Lee?" she said, nose wrinkling in confusion. "That doesn't seem right. I thought it was Simpson or something."

"No, my first name is Lee," he answered, carefully not providing his last name. The last thing he needed was for some crazy one-night stand being able to track him down later.

Her face cleared as if puzzle pieces had fallen into place. "Okay, Lee then. But I need to go!"

She clearly wanted to leave but kept tugging on his hand where it was still wrapped in hers. For some reason, he was really disappointed that she was so determined to get out of his bed and his life so quickly. "So go already!" he scowled at her. "I'm not stopping you!"

"You kinda are," she said drily, lifting up her hand and by extension, his and for the first time he realized the problem.

"Why are we handcuffed to each other?" he asked, mind racing. "I haven't arrested you, have I?" _Oh God, he wouldn't have slept with a suspect, would he?_

"Is that why you had them?" she asked obviously diverted. "Are you a police officer? I thought you said you were in movies or something. I assumed they were a prop." She gave another one of those deep chuckles that seemed to make his heart beat faster. "Anyway, no – I have a vague recollection that there was another reason for these." The blush that went over her face – over her whole body actually as far as he could tell – made her impossibly more adorable. "But I think you might also have swallowed the key for some reason that seemed like a good idea at the time but right now, I need you to come to the bathroom with me because I need to go before we have a lot more to explain to housekeeping."

"Oh!" It was all clear now. "You meant you have to _go."_

"Yes!" she answered tugging in his hand again. "So please, please, _please_ get up because as embarrassing as this is going to be, it's going to be more embarrassing in about thirty seconds."

"Hang on." He rolled and reached down the side of the bed with his left arm, pulling her slightly toward him with the movement. "I'll get it unlocked in a second."

"What are you doing? I told you, you swallowed the key!"

Lee rolled back triumphantly, key between his fingers. "Old magic trick – palmed it and made you think I'd swallowed it."

"Oh thank goodness!" She held out her cuffed wrist, twitching while he quickly released her and then she shot off across the room, all modesty forgotten in her hurry, so that he was left holding an empty sheet and enjoying the flash of her long back and bare buttocks before she disappeared into the bathroom.

When she re-emerged a few minutes later, looking considerably less stressed, he was surprisingly disappointed to see she'd found a robe on the back of the door. "Feel better?" he asked in a teasing tone from where he'd pulled himself up to lean back against the headboard.

"Much," she smiled back at him shyly, pulling the robe tighter around herself as that blush spread again.

"Maybe it's time to get re-introduced?" he grinned at her, holding out a hand. "I'm Lee."

There was only the slightest hesitation before she crossed the room and took it in hers, shaking it carefully. "Amanda."

A vague memory filtered through his head through the drunken snapshots. "A-man-da." He sounded out the syllables carefully. "Latin for lovable."

Those expressive eyes flew up to meet his. "Yes."

"We talked about that last night," he hazarded a guess.

"Um, yes, I think we did," she conceded.

Lee realized her hand was still in his and taking advantage of her distraction, pulled her forcefully onto his lap. "What else did we discuss last night?" he asked, nuzzling that beautiful long neck and that collarbone that showed just enough without making her look too skinny. There was a brief moment where she melted into his embrace but when his arms tightened instinctively around her, she began to struggle. "What's your hurry to leave, beautiful, lovable Amanda?" He held up his wrist with the handcuffs still dangling off it. "Do I need to restrain you again?"

"Oh please don't," she whispered, still trying to pull away. He released her immediately, sensing her growing panic. She didn't run, which he half expected, just slipped off his lap to sit leaning on the edge of the bed, breathing fast. "Sorry," he said. "I guess I got carried away."

Freed of his arms, she permitted herself another tremulous smile. "Apparently that's a theme with us." Her smile widened when he gave a snort of laughter. "And much as I'd like to stay…" - to his amusement, her eyes travelled involuntarily back to the bed beyond him – "I really need to go and figure out how I'm going to get home. My mother is looking after my boys and I need to get back."

"You're married?" Lee couldn't help feeling disappointed in himself – married women were a strict no-no in his books. He might play around but betrayal of anyone else's relationship was strictly taboo.

"Oh gosh no! I mean, I was, but I'm divorced now," she exclaimed, apparently as appalled as he was at the idea of infidelity. "And I'm really not like this. I know that's a bit hard to believe right now and I know divorced women have a reputation, but this is not like me _at all_. I don't know what I was thinking!"

"I see," he answered trying to keep his voice as neutral as possible since she seemed skittish. "Well, I've missed my flight too, so maybe we could go down to the travel agent in the lobby together and rebook at the same time. The least I can do is buy you a new ticket since it looks like I caused this."

Amanda leapt to her feet and began rapidly collecting her clothes from the floor, her flustered demeanour increasing when she had to disentangle her bra from a lamp. "Oh my gosh, no! I mean, that's fine – you don't owe me anything!"

"Amanda!" His voice cut through her babbling like a knife as he sat up and swung his legs off the side of the bed. "I was not suggesting it as some kind of _payment_!" he spat out. "I don't think you're some kind of hooker!"

She'd hunched over defensively the instant he'd said her name, but now, in the face of his outraged expression, she looked immediately apologetic. "Oh no, of course you don't," she said in her best soothing voice. "It's just this is all so embarrassing and not at all like me and I just want to get home and really if anybody owes anybody anything, I owe you, not the other way around!"

For some reason her convoluted ramble struck his funny bone and he began to laugh. "Wait – do you think _I'm_ some kind of a male escort?"

Amanda paused in the middle of pulling her clothes back on and stared at him, then gave a gasping laugh of her own. "Of course not!" she laughed.

He raised an eyebrow and waited.

"It's just that – well, I came on this weekend with my girlfriends from my old sorority because one of them is getting married next month, and my boyfriend has been using it as an excuse to keep telling me we should get married too. And I'd been considering it, really, really thinking about it, you know?" She cocked an eye at him and he nodded to show he was still paying attention. "But when I woke up this morning and I was... and you were… and we'd obviously… well, I realized I'd been looking for excuses not to marry him."

Lee put his hand over his heart, lips twitching when he noticed the way the movement drew her eyes to his chest. "Way to hurt a guy, Amanda – so you're just going to use me for my body and throw me away?" He had no idea what it was about this woman that was making him behave like this; normally he couldn't chivy his one-night stands out of his life quickly enough but Amanda –she was _different_ and suddenly he was desperate for her not to leave. "Because if that's true, you can at least buy me breakfast."

"I'm pretty sure breakfast is included with the room," she shot back right away, her dark eyes sparkling.

He reached for his boxers and jeans off the floor, not missing the way she snuck a quick look as he stood up and started to pull them on. "If you knew me better, you'd understand what a sacrifice it is for me to even offer to eat breakfast," he answered, trying to press his advantage.

"I don't think we should get to know each other any better," she said, suddenly turning serious. "I mean, last night was fun, I think. I mean, I'm _sure_ ," she rushed on when he made another mock wounded expression. "But I have a life back in… back home and you have a life somewhere and we should probably just agree that it's been fun and leave it at that, okay?" She'd finished dressing and held out her hand again, obviously intent on getting the hell out of his life as quickly as possible. He reached out to take it and she grinned at the handcuffs still dangling from his wrist. "You can probably take those off now."

He quickly flipped his hand and grabbed her wrist. "Are you sure?" he asked, only half joking. "It's not too late for me to try and keep you here."

She stilled but didn't pull away, eyes searching his before she gave a sad smile. "I'm sure. This was a fun little fantasy, but it's time to find another pumpkin to get me home and turn back into Phillip and Jamie's mom."

He felt the last little bit of hope fade out of him and let her hand drop. "Okay."

Suddenly as if giving into impulse, she stepped into his arms, pulling his head down for a long kiss. He let his arms wrap around her and felt hers tighten across his back, and then just as suddenly, she'd stepped back, wiping suspiciously bright eyes on her sleeve.

"Thank you for a lovely evening, Lee" she choked out before whirling and running out of the room.

"Amanda!" Lee tried calling her back but the door was already swinging shut behind her. He sagged back against the bed, feeling drained as if all colour had just left the room. What was it about that woman? He was _never_ like this, not over women he'd picked up in a bar. Sighing he turned to search the bedside table again for the handcuff key when he noticed the folded sheet of vellum under his wallet. He stared at it for moment, unable to explain his feeling of dread before he picked it up and carefully unfolded it.

"Oh my God."

He looked wildly at the closed hotel room door, then shot forward to whip it open and scan the hallway but Amanda was already gone. He walked back to the bed, leaning down to pick up the paper where it had fallen and read it again, hoping he'd misread it, but nope, it definitely still said it in crisp Gothic print.

" **State of Nevada Certificate of Marriage."**

His eyes dropped to where their names were printed in the careful handwriting of the Clark County Clerk. "Well, Amanda King, I don't think we'll be leaving it at that."


	3. Paperwork

It hadn't taken him more than few more seconds of paralysis before he leapt into action, calling down to the front desk to be connected to her room.

"I'm sorry, Sir, we have no one by that name registered at the hotel."

 _Strike one_. "Okay, thank you – can you connect me to the manager of the hotel bar please?"

 _Please, please, please_ …

"I'm sorry, Sir, we didn't have any official bookings from a sorority group last night although I believe there was at least two bachelorette parties here but I think they were all from other hotels."

 _Strike two_. "Okay, thank you. Um, can you tell me where the nearest wedding chapel is, please?"

"Oh yes sir, we have one right here in the hotel. It's just off the lobby in the east wing."

 _Ball one – still have a chance_. But first, he had another call to make. He picked up the receiver and dialed carefully, bracing himself for what was going to come next.

"Hi, Billy."

* * *

The county clerk at the chapel looked singularly unimpressed when Lee flipped his wallet open to flash his badge. "Sorry, Buddy," she said before he could even speak. "Without a warrant, I can't just show you any marriage records."

"Not even my own?" he asked wearily, pulling out the certificate from his jacket pocket and holding it out, along with his ID.

The clerk gave him a long look before taking the license and the ID and studying them carefully. "You just trying to make sure you really did it?" she grinned. "Gee, it's been at least at least two days since that happened." She began flipping through the filing cabinet behind her. "What is it about Vegas that makes people want to gamble their money and their lives?" she asked rhetorically. "There ya go – Stetson and King," she went on, handing him the file. "Wife send you down to get more proof? It's usually the guys who need to have it proved to them."

"Something like that," he answered, trying not to react to the word 'wife' as he jotted down Amanda's address in his case book. "Thanks for the help."

Arlington. He blew out a breath not sure if it was relief or something else. What were the odds she'd live less than ten miles from his apartment?

"Um, so, uh, just in case, you know, since neither of us were…"

"Entirely sober?" asked the clerk with deadpan humor. "Gee, it's only been one day since that happened," she added as she handed him something.

Lee glanced down and realized he was holding a glossy government brochure titled 'Annulling a Marriage in Nevada.'

"Thanks," he said sheepishly and turned away.


	4. Sunrise Over Suburbia

Amanda turned away from the front door after waving the boys off on the bus and walked back into the kitchen. Her mother was sipping her coffee and watching her quietly as she moved efficiently around the kitchen tidying away the breakfast dishes. She knew it was a trap and that her mother was trying to lull her into a false sense of security before springing an inquisition on her. She'd been suspiciously uninterested about why exactly Amanda missed her flight home, but after 30 years, Amanda was well aware that her mother was just biding her time, probably waiting until the boys were out of the house so she'd have no excuse not to answer. She could try and claim that as an adult, she was not required to confess anything to her mother, but she knew that was never going to work – the more she tried to be evasive, the more her mother's curiosity would be piqued.

The first salvo came soon enough.

"Dean called a few times while you were away."

"Did he? I don't know why when he knew I wasn't here."

"That's true. But he did call twice _after_ you were supposed to be home."

"Really? Shouldn't he have been on the air or something?"

"I guess he was just so worried he called during the commercial breaks," mused Dotty in a tone that was just a smidgen too innocent.

"Well, I'm a grown woman," said Amanda, managing to tone down the irritation in her voice. "I don't need to be fretted over like a child."

"Not even by your boyfriend?" asked Dotty. "I would have thought if there was anyone – other than me, of course – who had the right to fret about you…"

"Nobody has any _right_ to know what I do in my own time," snapped Amanda and watched her mother's eyes go wide. "I'm sorry, Mother – I shouldn't be yelling at you but I'm still tired from my trip."

"Vegas took it out of you, hmmm?" quipped Dotty with a mischievous glint in her eye. "Or someone in Vegas, perhaps?"

"Mother!"

Dotty looked down at her coffee cup, barely hiding her smile. "Well, you did say you were a grown woman, Darling. And a grown woman has needs after all."

Amanda hunched her shoulders and turned to the sink to begin piling the dirty dishes. "I have everything I need in my life already, thank you, Mother."

"If you say so, Amanda," came the instant response but she could tell her mother wasn't convinced. She turned on the tap and filled the sink with soapy water.

Dotty watched her for a moment, recognizing that particular set to Amanda's posture and knew that whatever had happened in Las Vegas, she wasn't going to get any further answers out of her daughter for the moment.

Amanda watched the sink fill up, already feeling the familiar lull of routine, and then realized with a sigh that she was idly rubbing the mark around her wrist where the handcuffs had left a faint bruise. She heard the rustling sound that told her that Dotty had been distracted by the morning paper and relaxed further that she had at least a short reprieve from her mother's nosiness. After all, what could she tell her? She couldn't – simply couldn't – admit to what had really happened. That she'd gotten much too drunk at Betty's bachelorette party because she'd realized, seeing how happy Betty was, that she couldn't marry Dean without feeling the same way. That she'd caught the eye of what had to be the handsomest man she'd ever seen in her life, a man who'd spun her a story about being a film producer – and then turned out to have handcuffs in his pocket. How could she have been so foolish?

A dish slipped from her hands and back into the water as she cringed with embarrassment at that memory. Waking up in a strange bed with a strange man whose name she couldn't even remember – she'd never done such a thing in her life! Her head was almost pounding now in sympathy with the way she'd felt when she'd woken up yesterday. She'd wanted nothing more than to sneak out of that room but instead she'd been trapped, torn between wishing he wouldn't wake up and knowing that she couldn't leave until he did. Mortified, she'd had to finally resort to prodding him gently and talking to him until he'd finally come to.

She sighed at the memory – even in the depths of embarrassment, she'd thought he was good looking, and then he'd opened his eyes and smiled – and Lord above, he'd been _gorgeous_. He'd looked so happy to see her that she hadn't been able to help smiling back. She'd been really afraid during those long minutes before she'd woken him, trying to remember how they'd ended up there, but in that split second when he'd woken up and looked at her, she'd suddenly felt safe. It was completely irrational, but she had. Then, when he'd teased her about restraining her again to make her stay, he'd let her go the instant she'd said no – and looked contrite that he'd even done that. Truth be told, as much of a relief as it was that she'd been right to trust her gut instinct about him, she'd missed the feel of his arms the minute he'd dropped them.

" _Lee. That means shelter, doesn't it?"_

" _Among other things," said that velvety voice. Those beautiful eyes leaning forward to look into hers. "So you know what that tells you, don't you?"_

" _What does that tell me?"_

" _That you're perfectly safe in my hands…"_

Oh Lord, those hands…

She'd spent the flight home going over and over it in her head but she could only remember the tiniest snippets. Slow dancing to some song they both remembered from high school. Telling him she was trying to work out the best way to break it off with Dean while he nodded, owlish expression on his face and then him leaning in and saying, _"I have a great idea. It's foolproof. Someone as beautiful as you should never have to marry someone who sounds as boring as Dan."_

Laughing hazel eyes and the click of the cuffs. _"I've saved your life and I'm responsible for you now. If I'm your shelter from the storm, I can't risk letting you out of my sight, can I?"_

Hands entwined, skin on skin, heat on heat, nerve endings sparkling like fireworks…

 _Stop torturing yourself, Amanda_ she scolded herself inwardly. _What's done is done and it's not like you'll ever see him again._

She was so deep in thought that she barely heard the doorbell or her mother leaving the table to answer it.


	5. In-Laws Shoud Be Outlawed

Lee had waited for several minutes after watching her saying goodbye to her sons on the doorstep from the safety of his Porsche. Now that he was here, on her street, seeing her normal suburban life, he was losing his nerve – what right did he have to come and cause her all the upheaval he was going to inflict?

_But what if she marries that Doug guy and commits bigamy?_

His courage back in place, he got out and walked up the path to the front door, took another deep breath and pressed the bell. Braced for a shocked Amanda, he knew he'd probably done a poor job of hiding his own surprise when it opened to reveal a pretty middle-aged woman with blonde hair and familiar dark eyes.

"Mrs. King?" he hazarded, not knowing what else to try.

"Mrs. West," said the woman, giving him the once-over with real interest. "Mrs. King is my daughter."

"Oh," he said feeling stupid. "Is she home?"

"For you? I certainly hope so."

The woman – his mother-in-law, he suddenly realized – was smiling at him, and he found himself smiling back.

"Oh my," murmured his mother-in-law. "You know when you smile, you go from a ten to an eleven."

Lee stared at her, now completely off-kilter and with absolutely no answer for that. Mrs. West's smile broadened at his obvious distress and then she decided to take pity on him.

"You wait right there, I'll go fetch her."

A few seconds later, the door swung open again and for the briefest second, Amanda's face lit up and he found himself grinning goofily back at her; she was as pretty as he'd remembered. And then the smile vanished as she took in that he was actually on her doorstep and she was stepping back with a horrified expression. "No, no, no, no, no, no," she chanted as she started to slam the door in his face.

"Amanda, wait!" He jammed his foot in the door unthinkingly, then let out a yelp of pain as it got crushed.

Instantly it swung open again and Amanda, looking slightly apologetic, leaned out and hissed, "You cannot be here! My mother is here! Go away!"

She went to slam the door again but before she could, he thrust their marriage certificate toward her through the gap, only just barely yanking his fingers out of the way before it slammed shut. He waited a few seconds and then the door slowly opened again. Amanda was white as a sheet, hands trembling as she held the certificate in her hand.

"Now do you want to talk?" he asked.

"This isn't real – this _can't_ be real," she whispered. "You've faked this up as some kind of cruel joke. You're a film producer right? This is just a prop, isn't it?" She sounded so hopeful, he almost couldn't bear to break her heart. "It's a Candid Camera stunt, right? You've got guys hiding in my bushes and Allen Funt is about to surprise me? Because if it is, this is really mean!"

"Afraid not," he shook his head. "We had a busy night, it seems. I found it just after you left."

"Oh my gosh." She looked back down at the paper, although he wasn't sure how she was reading it, she was shaking so hard. Finally she looked back up at him, eyes shiny with tears. "What do we do now?"

"Well, I have a plan," he said quickly, "but you don't have to cry – it's not so bad being married to me, is it?"

To his relief, he'd actually managed to get her to laugh, even if it was just a slightly hysterical, watered down version of that husky chuckle he'd heard the morning before.

"Gimme a day or two to get used to the idea and ask me again," she replied, a half-smile on her face.

"Gimme a day or two and we won't still be married," he countered.

"Really?" she asked hopefully.

"Well, no," he admitted. "If we can get back there right away we can get the annulment process started immediately, but it will take a couple of weeks for it to be finalized."

"An annulment? We can't get an annulment! We, uh…" she waved her hands helplessly between them.

"This handy State of Nevada brochure says different," he grinned, handing it to her. "Look, do you really want to keep having this conversation on the doorstep?"

She wavered for a moment and then to her horror, Dotty's hand appeared over her shoulder and plucked the brochure and the certificate out of her hand.

"I really wouldn't, Darling. Edna Gilstrap will have her binoculars out if you two stand out here any longer. Now why don't you come in, Mr. ..?" Her eyes dropped to the certificate and then she looked up again, face full of mischief. "Stetson. And you and Mrs. Stetson here can tell me all about how you got in this pickle." She turned and walked back toward the kitchen. "What a good thing I just put on a fresh pot of coffee – I feel like we're going to need it."

"Oh Mother," sighed Amanda, suddenly deflated. She stared at the floor for a moment before heaving a sigh and looking up to meet Lee's concerned expression with a grimace. "I'm never going to hear the end of this." She pulled the door further open and gestured for him to enter. "Come on in – _mi casa es su casa_ , apparently."

"Well, at least you can see the funny side of this," he said, trying to sound encouraging as he stepped past her into his worst nightmare – a family home in the suburbs.

"My mother is only seeing the funny side of this," she groused. "Might as well just go with the flow."

He followed her across the foyer and down the steps into the sunny kitchen – all the signs of busy happy boys everywhere, from the basketball on the counter to the Halloween decorations on the bulletin board.

Amanda's mother had already poured three cups of coffee and was setting them out on the table, having already carefully placed the marriage certificate right in the middle. "Alright then, Mr. Stetson – how about you come sit down and tell me why you married my daughter without my permission."

Lee could tell she was enjoying herself hugely from the way the dimples were dancing in her cheeks. "Please call me Lee, Mrs. West," he began as he edged into a chair.

"Please call me Dotty, Lee," she reciprocated, now openly grinning.

Amanda was still standing, obviously undecided about where to sit.

"Get your keister in that chair, Young Lady. You have a lot of 'splainin to do," teased Dotty, pointing to the spot opposite her.

Amanda sunk into the spot beside Lee that her mother had directed her to. "Well, to be honest Mother, I'm not sure how much explaining I can do. I was – I mean, we were – a little bit drunk."

"A little bit drunk, Amanda? 'We got married and didn't remember it' isn't a _little_ bit drunk, Darling."

Amanda turned to Lee. "Are you sure? I mean, maybe we just picked up a joke souvenir licence in the gift shop or something?" she asked hopefully.

"No. Believe me, I checked," he answered, shaking his head. "I had to go to the Clerk's Office to even find out where you lived – we definitely did."

"Oh." Amanda was silent for a moment and then looked back up, hopeful expression back. "But you said we can get it annulled?"

"Yes, do tell, Lee," interrupted Dotty. "From what Amanda just said, I didn't think annulment was an option."

"Mother! Could you please try not to enjoy my humiliation quite so blatantly?" Amanda said plaintively.

"Are you kidding? This is the most fun I've had in years!" quipped Dotty. "But seriously, Lee, annulment is possible?"

"Um yeah," he recovered from watching the by-play between the two women. "According to the brochure, there's a 'want of understanding' clause we could use since we were-"

"Completely pie-eyed?" interjected Dotty.

"Mother!"

"Drunk," said Lee firmly, trying to get the conversation back under control. "We just have to apply in person to the Clerk's office and if we do it together, it can be cleared off the books in three weeks."

"What do you mean 'in person'?" asked Amanda wide-eyed. "I can't go back to Las Vegas – what would I tell the boys?"

"The boys are only 8 and 10, Darling. You could tell them you're going to the North Pole to deliver their Christmas list to Santa and they'd believe you," replied Dotty. "And you know, I'm perfectly capable of looking after them while you're away."

"Well, if only one of us makes the application, it can take up to 15 weeks, longer if they decide one of us needs to have six months' residency!" said Lee. He was exaggerating for effect, hoping she'd go along with Plan A to get them out of this as quickly as possible. "But if we fly back out there today, we can be there by tonight, apply for the annulment first thing in the morning and fly home – and you could be back in time to put your sons to bed tomorrow. I mean, as long as your mother is willing to help us out with that." He turned his most winning smile on his mother-in-law who beamed back.

Amanda was looking only slightly less panicky. "So you came all the way here to find me just so that you could fly me back to Nevada?"

Lee shifted uncomfortably in his chair. "Well, it wasn't really all that far. I, um, live in D.C."

"Oh how nice!" exclaimed Dotty. "You can come for family dinner on Sundays! Assuming the divorce is amicable, of course," she added when both Lee and Amanda looked at her slack-jawed.

"It's not a divorce, it's an annulment," muttered Amanda.

"Of course, silly me," Dotty smiled into her coffee cup.

"So?" asked Lee turning back to Amanda with a desperate look. "There's a flight out of National at two this afternoon."

Amanda groaned, dropping her head into her hands. "I cannot believe I have to get back on a plane when I've only been home nine hours."

"Nine hours?" Lee looked at her in amazement. "How the hell did you get home? Ox cart?"

"Very funny. No, I could only afford the flight that went through Houston and Chicago so I got home at midnight," she muttered, not looking at him.

"Amanda! I offered to buy you a replacement ticket! Why didn't you tell me you were short on money to get home?"

Amanda turned in her chair to glare at him full-on. "Because I didn't want to owe you anything! You weren't responsible for me missing my flight, why should you have to pay for it?"

"Well, if you'd stuck around long enough to let me, we'd have found that certificate and we wouldn't be having to fly back now, would we?" he vented.

"If you hadn't seduced me and married me while I was drunk, we also wouldn't be having to fly back now, would we?" Her voice was rising now to meet his in volume as she mimicked him.

"My recollection of the other night may be somewhat hazy, but I do remember that the seduction was pretty much mutual!"

"Mine too, but it was your idea to get married, not mine!"

"Are you sure?" he jeered. "Because you were pretty hot on the idea of finding a way to dump Dan as I recall!"

"Dean! His name is Dean! And I don't know why you're so sure this is all my fault when you didn't remember marrying me either!"

Amanda pulled up short at the sound of the smothered giggle across the table and rounded on Dotty.

"And Mother, would you _please_ stop laughing – this isn't funny!" She finished with a slight hiccupping sob and lifted her hands to cover her face.

Dotty reached across the table and pulled her hands down so she could wrap her own around them. "Amanda, Darling, I'm sorry but it is a tiny little bit funny and if you weren't so tired, you'd see it too. But it's not so bad, is it? Lee came and found you and all you have to do is go back and file some paperwork and it'll all be water under the bridge, right?" She looked at Lee for confirmation.

Lee was looking slightly terrified at the sudden appearance of tears, but managed to nod. "Right. By this time tomorrow, we could be in and out of the clerk's office and on our way home."

"Fine," sniffled Amanda, dragging herself to her feet. "I'll go pack an overnight bag." She looked back and forth between her mother and her – unbelievable but true – temporary husband with a worried expression. "Mother, behave yourself."

Dotty looked at her with a much too innocent face. "Of course I will, Darling. I'll just take this time to get to know my newest son-in-law before you get rid of him."

Amanda looked at Lee, who was looking back at her, frozen like a deer in headlights.

"Hurry," he mouthed at her and somehow, knowing he was equally uncomfortable about this whole thing made her feel better. As she turned to jog up the stairs, she could already hear her mother.

"So Lee, tell me – any chance you've made me a grandmother again?"

"Mother!" Amanda stopped dead halfway up the stairs, ears straining to see if Lee would answer, and then to her relief, she heard: "No, Dotty. No chance at all."


	6. Frequent Flyers

The flight back to Vegas was nowhere near as uncomfortable as her flight home had been since Lee had bought them first class tickets. When she'd turned to look at him, eyebrows raised in disbelief, he'd just shrugged. "I'm too tall for the seats in economy. And besides, I had to get these last minute."

"Documentary film work must pay pretty well," she muttered. "Maybe you could get me a job working for you."

For some reason, that had made him laugh out loud. "Believe me, that's the last thing you'd want to do."

"Really? Because I'm looking for work and if I have to start at the ground up as a gopher fetching coffee for the director, I could do that."

"Well there's no call for the casting couch in documentaries so you've already started on the wrong foot," he muttered as he stowed her bag in the overhead compartment. He glanced down at the tiny gasp she gave and realized she was turning away, trying to hide the hurt on her face. "I'm sorry," he stammered out, dropping into the seat beside her. "That was a really awful thing to say." He ran his hand over the back of his head in a gesture she already recognized as his sign of nerves. "I'm just really tired too – and I keep having to call my boss and tell him some other bullsh-, some other reason why I'm not back at work yet." He picked up her hand and squeezed it. "But I shouldn't be taking that out on you. I really am sorry."

"It's okay," she answered softly, squeezing his hand back. "This is kind of new territory for me too, you know. I meant what I said yesterday – this is so not like me. I still can't believe I'm in this mess."

"Well, at least we're in it together, right?" he asked trying to cheer her up.

"For now anyway," she nodded. Her smile wasn't quite as bright as he'd like but at least she wasn't crying.

"Yeah," he agreed. "For now."

There was an uneasy silence that was broken only by the cheerful voice of the stewardess offering them champagne.

"Oh, that reminds me," said Lee with a guilty expression. "I found these in a champagne glass after you left yesterday." He pulled a pair of wedding rings out of his jacket pocket and offered them up to her.

Amanda eyed them for a second and then her face really did finally light up with that laughing smile.

"What?" he asked, starting to laugh without knowing why.

"I guess we should be grateful we went with traditional rings. For a while there, I thought maybe that's what the handcuffs had been for."

"Amanda!" Now he was really laughing – he hadn't laughed as much in months as he had in the last day with this woman.

Amanda carefully picked up one of the rings and dropped it into her champagne glass. "Here's to the end of our marriage," she toasted him.

"And the beginning of a beautiful friendship," he answered.


	7. Small Talk

"You only booked one room?"

Lee looked up, seeing the carefully neutral expression on Amanda's face for the first time as she eyed the lone queen sized bed. "Oh God, I'm sorry, I didn't even think about it. In my job… we usually just share…"

"Oh."

 _How does she manage to pack so much into a single syllable_? "Not like that," he rushed on. "We just…share."

Amanda put her overnight bag down carefully and wrapped her arms around herself in a kind of hug. "It'll be fine," she said. "I mean, we're married right? We can share a… room." She looked over at him, trying to smile bravely and only managing to look more nervous. "I mean, this whole thing has already cost you a lot, right? All the extra flights and time off work and everything…"

"Yeah," he agreed. "Look, I can sleep on the floor or something…"

"No, don't be silly," she said in a firmer voice. "It'll be fine." She looked around at the familiar room – it wasn't the same one, but they all looked alike really, she thought. "So, um, it's too late to go down to the clerk's office?

"Yeah," he answered, grateful for the change in topic. "They closed an hour ago. But they open at eight – we can be first in line."

She walked to the window to stare out at the Strip, fingers trailing across the glass. "Funny how they're open around the clock to let you get married and then they turn into a regular government office the minute you want to get out of it."

"Typical bureaucracy," he agreed, watching her. "It's like they know I'm not a morning person or something."

"Except for one thing," she answered without thinking, freezing when she realized what she'd said. There was a second of silence and then to her relief, she heard him start to laugh.

"Except for one thing," he agreed. "Look, how about we go find some dinner? It's a bit earlier than I usually eat but…"

"Wow, you can tell you don't live in the suburbs," Amanda turned around, happy to be distracted. "If I don't have dinner in front of my boys by 5:30, there's practically a riot."

"Well, they're growing boys, right? I was probably the same at that age. And it's eight o'clock at home so that makes it dinner time for me."

Amanda gave him a skeptical glance. "Neither of us have been properly home in days. I'm pretty sure your body isn't even in the Washington time zone anymore." She looked around the room again, and then back at him. "Can I just make a call first? It's almost Phillip and Jamie's bedtime and I didn't have a chance to say good-bye so I'd like to at least say good night."

"Oh yeah, of course!" Lee stammered. "I'm sorry – I didn't even think."

"It's okay – it's a mom thing. It'll just take me a few minutes."

She walked to sit on the edge of the bed, glancing at the long distance instructions before dialing, while he went to stare out the window in an attempt to give her privacy.

"Hi fellas." He could hear the happiness in her voice when her sons got on the line after a brief conversation with her mother. "Yeah, I'm sorry I didn't get a chance to say goodbye… My friend Betty got real sick and needed someone to come help her, but I should be home in time to tuck you in tomorrow, okay? … You got two runs in kickball? That's great, Jamie! And Phillip, I'm sure Scotty didn't actually bleed all the way to death from a bloody nose…"

Lee stared out at the neon lights, as soothed by the soft-spoken voice as her sons probably were. Hearing her back and forth with her boys made him realize for the first time how truthful she'd been when she said their…interlude… was not how she usually behaved. Everything in her voice told him how happy she was letting them be her whole world. It should have been a relief, knowing that while she may have unconsciously used him to get rid of Dan or Don or whatever his name was, it had never been in her plans to really trap him into anything. _It was just a bit of wild oats_ , prompted the angel on his shoulder

 _She married me though_ , his devil pointed out.

 _Or you married her_ , retorted the angel. _You were the one with a 'great idea', remember? When did you ever meet anyone who made you think that would be a great idea?_

"Okay, be good for your grandmother, and I'll see you tomorrow. Love you too." Amanda replaced the receiver in the cradle and stared at it with a sigh.

"I'm sorry I got you into this mess," he ventured finally when she didn't move.

Amanda gave herself a small shake and looked at him with a shrug. "Took two to tango, right? I'm a big girl so I get to take my fair share of the blame. Anyway, I'm ready for dinner now – sorry about the delay."

"It's fine – I'm sure they were glad to hear from you."

"Well, I hope so. You never outgrow it do you? Wanting to hear your mom's voice sometimes?" she asked, smiling only to have it vanish an instant later. "What's the matter?"

"Nothing, it's fine, I'm just hungry. What do you feel like for dinner?"

She looked like she was going to pursue it for a second before standing up and answering, "The steak place across the street looks good, don't you think?" as he nodded, grateful for the change in conversation.

Dinner was nowhere near as uncomfortable as he thought it might be, considering they had so little in common on the surface, but he soon realized that he'd erred in thinking that suburban moms were bound to be dull. Amanda kept the conversation going on topics ranging from politics to what turned out to be a shared interest in foreign films, interspersing little stories about her sons with light questions about his travels and his work as a film producer. She asked a lot of good questions – she'd be excellent at a Class C interrogation, he thought – but didn't probe too deeply into his personal life outside of the obvious.

"I assume there's no Mrs. Stetson or little Stetsons around already right? Even three sheets to the wind, you wouldn't have committed bigamy, right?" she asked, only half kidding.

"No," he confirmed. "You're my first and last wife and as for little Stetsons – not possible since I got …" he made a scissor motion with his finger.

"Oh! That's why you were so certain when you answered my mother," she laughed with some relief.

"Yeah," he answered. He looked at her with some awe. "Your mother is something else, you know that right? I've never been put through the wringer like that – she'd put the KGB to shame!"

"How would you know?" she giggled. "Do you get interrogated by the KGB a lot?"

"Oh! Well, you know – figure of speech," he explained it away, hoping she wouldn't catch him out again so easily.

"My dad used to say the same about her except he used to say Gestapo," she answered, not even noticing how she'd thrown him off balance. "I'd apologize, but you showed up at my house under your own steam – I would never have let her loose on you normally."

"I liked her," he said with a grin. "And she sure wasn't fazed by any of this, was she?"

Amanda chuckled in agreement. "My mother is an incurable romantic mixed with a healthy dose of pragmatism. I didn't get away with a lot when I was a teenager, but I never felt like there was anything I couldn't tell her. She always had my back."

"Must have been nice." Again there was that little flicker in his eyes that gave her pause, but then he was speaking again, smoothly changing the subject. "So do you want to go and walk off dinner before we go back to the hotel? The crowd on the Strip is some of the best free entertainment in the country."

"That would be nice," she agreed, letting him off the hook for now. "I didn't get to spend a lot of time actually being a tourist when I was here for the bachelorette party. My Kappa sisters haven't changed a bit – they all just wanted to lie by the pool and drink." She looked up from her dinner at his bark of laughter. "What?"

"Did I tell you yet what I thought when you were trying to wake me up yesterday?" His eyes were sparkling so bright she'd swear she could read by them.

"No, you haven't."

Lee launched into the story about what he'd been expecting when he'd opened his eyes and soon they were both laughing uncontrollably and from there it was off to other topics and the rest of dinner flew by.


	8. Whispers in the Dark

Amanda was tucked up under the covers like the grandmother in the fairy tales when he came out of the bathroom. He didn't usually bother wearing anything in bed, but this was not the usual situation so he'd pulled on pajama pants in deference to his wife's modesty. Despite that, she was watching him with a slightly panicky expression as he walked toward her.

"What big eyes you have," he teased.

"The better to see you with," she answered without thinking.

He stopped and struck a pose. "So you like what you see, Mrs. Stetson?"

She flushed scarlet with mortification. "I didn't mean – I mean, yes, of course, but I wasn't _looking_. It's just what the grandmother says…"

"Amanda," he chuckled. "I was kidding. Stop looking so scared." He paused as he pulled back the covers and prepared to get in the bed. "You're not, are you? Scared of me, I mean?"

"No, of course not." She didn't look entirely convinced though and he grinned as he slid in to join her.

"Well, you could have fooled me – you're looking at me like I'm about to tie you to a railroad track and twirl my mustache." He held up his hands. "Look, no cuffs this time."

"Sorry," she muttered, sliding even deeper under the covers. "This is just really weird."

"Not really – from what I've heard, this is exactly what married life is like – two people on opposite sides of a bed not touching each other."

"That is not what it's like!" she retorted.

"Oh really?" he said, reaching to turn off the light. "Then why did you get divorced?"

"That's a very personal question," came the terse response.

"We're pretty much past that, aren't we?" Lee settled back on the pillow, and stared at the ceiling, trying to ignore the faint waft of the already familiar floral scent that was drifting across the bed. "How much more personal can we get at this point?"

There was something about the darkness, she thought, and the warmth in his voice that made it easy to talk to him. "It wasn't for any big reason really, we just grew apart. Joe's living in Africa now – has been for a few years. He's a lawyer for an aid agency and he was almost never home. I got tired of it all."

The mattress dipped as she shifted nervously and Lee crossed his arms, trying to tamp down the flashes of memory he was getting of her body against his.

"So Boring Dan seemed like a better idea?"

"Dean," she corrected him. "And he's perfectly nice."

"But boring?" he couldn't help teasing her as he rolled onto his side to stare at her profile which he could now make out as his eyes adjusted to the dark.

"Not boring, steady."

Lee gave a mock shudder. "That sounds even worse – what does he do? Let me guess? Accountant? Pharmacist? Oh no, please tell me he's not a grocery store manager!"

He could see her lips twitching despite herself. "He's the Channel 12 weatherman actually."

"Wait – the guy that does those ads with the clown?"

"That's the one."

"Seriously? You were going to downgrade from a lawyer to a clown's sidekick just because you wanted someone steady?"

She turned her head to glare at him. "Stop saying it like that's a bad thing! Just because women read novels about marrying movie stars or war heroes or James Bond, that doesn't mean we don't really want a nice dependable guy."

She couldn't quite read the glimmer that came into his eyes at that moment. "So you never wanted to marry James Bond then?"

"Of course not," she retorted. "I'm sure accidentally marrying a film producer is as close as I want to get to that."

"I'm sure you're right," he chuckled. "So what do your sons and mother think of Dan?"

She turned to glare at him again but didn't bother to correct him. "They like him just fine, thank you."

"That's not really much of a ringing endorsement," he pointed out. "Dotty doesn't seem like the kind who'd want you to settle for 'just fine'. She seemed to like me more than that." He smirked at the grimace that crossed her face.

"She wants me to be happy and if I'd been able to be happy with Dean, then that would have been enough for her."

"Because she's got your back."

Amanda abruptly twisted onto her side so she could look at him properly. "Lee? When did you lose your mom?" she asked.

"When I was five." He'd answered before he even thought about it and heard her tiny gasp of distress. "Was I that obvious?" he asked in a wry tone.

"I caught you with your guard down earlier," she shrugged. "I'm sure you're usually better at hiding it. And I have boys so I know what you're like when you're hurt. I'm sorry about that comment earlier though – that's awfully young to lose a parent."

"Both of them actually – car accident. But you couldn't know and I've had over 25 years to get used to it," he said in a tone clearly designed to make her drop the subject.

"So who brought you up?" she asked, ignoring it.

"The United States Air Force mostly, in the form of my uncle."

"You didn't like him." She wasn't asking – she was much too good at reading him. There was definitely something to this mother's intuition thing.

"It was mutual. He was a career military officer and a rising star and suddenly he was saddled with a kid he never wanted."

"I'm sure that's not true," she murmured. "You were family."

"Don't kid yourself. That's why I knew I never wanted a family. Every time he'd make a crack about 'just wait until you have a kid and he's just like you', it made me more certain. Life is a lot easier when you don't have to think about anyone's feelings but your own."

"That doesn't sound like he didn't like you." There was just enough light filtering in through a gap in the curtains that he could see her frowning slightly at him from her pillow. "That just sounds like he was overwhelmed with the responsibility from time to time. It's hard being a single parent."

"Especially when you're not the parent?" he asked. He sighed and went on, "You probably have a point though. I remember when I was little - really little – packages would come from all over the world with little things he bought for us wherever he was posted. I remember my mother had a jade ring that she wore all the time because she said it was the same colour as my dad's eyes."

"So, like yours," added Amanda.

He stopped, struck by that. He only had a few pictures of his parents, all of them black and white; it had never occurred to him that he must have inherited his looks from someone. "Yeah, I guess so," he agreed. "Anyway, I remember this wind-up toy he must have sent from Japan – a train with a carriage that pulled a little car full of zoo animals and they moved up and down when the train moved… I loved that thing, used to sleep with it."

Amanda gave a soft gurgle of laughter. "Phillip did that with his first baseball glove. He said he had to wear it all the time to break it in properly."

"Well, you do," nodded Lee. "It's the best way to make sure it molds to your hand properly. Everyone knows that."

"Well, it made eating spaghetti pretty tricky, let me tell you." Amanda's smile was a glimmer of light in the darkness of the room. "We had to chop up all his meals so he could spoon them in with one hand."

"Good for you. Most moms would have made him take it off, I bet."

Amanda studied him for a moment. "I bet your mom would have done the same."

Lee had a sudden flash of memory of his mother carefully tucking the covers on his bed around that train. "Yeah, I think she would have." He reached out with an absent-minded hand to push a tendril of hair off her face and tuck it behind her ear, then let his fingers rest there, playing with her soft curls. "So what made a mother-of-the-year like you marry a stranger in Vegas, do you suppose?"

"You mean other than the two-for-one margaritas?" Her accompanying laugh had an odd quality to it as if she'd been holding her breath. "I don't know really – I mean, I know that I was already feeling more and more trapped by other people's expectations. The friends I was with kept teasing me about how I needed to have one last crazy fling before I settled down again – and then there you were, with your smile and your dimples and you had this 'really great idea'…" her voice trailed off.

"And handcuffs," he chuckled. "But sure, blame it all on me."

"So why did you marry me then?" she turned his question back on him. "You say you never wanted kids or to settle down but then you marry a single mom on a whim?"

"Ah well, there you were, all lovable with your smile and your big brown eyes…" he teased, watching those exact eyes crinkle with amusement. "And it seemed like a really great idea." She stilled as his hand slid around the back of her neck and he shifted forward to drop a light kiss on her lips. "Still does actually."

He didn't move away and there was a beat that seemed to last an eternity before Amanda breathed out his name, then moved close to kiss him back. With a groan, he pulled her closer, feeling her lips part under his with a faint whimper and her hand coming up to cup his face.

The taste of her was a strange combination of familiar and new, as if his body could remember things about her that his drunken mind had forgotten. They shifted simultaneously, bringing their bodies up against the other's, the instant flush of heat and electricity unmistakable, as he pulled her over to lie partly across him, all without breaking their kiss until they finally broke apart, gasping for air.

"Oh wow," Amanda whispered.

"Yeah," was all he could manage. He stared into her eyes, trying fruitlessly to read them in the dark. "Are we… Is this okay?"

Her fingers curled into his collarbone and her breath seemed to quicken against his cheek. "I think… yes? I mean, we're married after all, aren't we? This is what married people do." Despite her obvious nervousness, he was almost certain he could hear the smile in her voice.

"We're only married until tomorrow though," he felt he had to remind her. "I don't want you to do anything you'll regret." He held his breath, praying she wouldn't change her mind, relaxing when he heard the quiet laugh bubble out of her.

"I'm pretty sure we're past regret, Lee – and besides, wouldn't it be nice to actually remember what it is we're regretting later?"

"God yes," he gasped, pulling her down to kiss her again and feeling her melt into his arms.


	9. Wolves

"I can't believe I married an octopus," Amanda grumbled half-heartedly the next morning when Lee woke her with light kisses along the back of her neck and all the obvious signs of his intention to extend the honeymoon.

"You weren't complaining last night," he murmured, smiling at the way her body had already begun to respond to his.

"I'm not complaining now," she replied, shivering with anticipation at the path his fingers were taking. "I just didn't picture waking up with you wrapped around me like a koala. It's playing hell with your loner image."

"Hey, if I'm only ever going to be married once, I'm going to make the most of it," he retorted. "I can go back to being a loner tomorrow."

Amanda rolled over quickly, a frown in her eyes as she looked up at him. "Promise me you won't," she asked.

"Won't what?" he asked, confused by the sudden shift in mood.

"Promise me you won't go back to being a loner. I mean, the last couple of days have been crazy and I know that once we file that paperwork later, you'll be out of my life like a shadow – but that doesn't mean I won't think about you or worry about you. I don't want to think you're alone out there."

"Worry about me? Why would you do that?"

Amanda gave a tiny grunt of annoyance. "Lee, you're a good man, a kind man – the kind of man who marries someone to save them from a doomed marriage because it seemed like the best idea. You talk a good game, but you need someone in your life to wrap those protective instincts around. Promise me you'll look for her, and that you won't cut yourself off from someone because you're determined not to get hurt."

He'd pulled back, not sure where this was coming from. "Well, what if you're her?" he countered. "What if you were my only chance to act like a normal person and you're just vanishing back to a life in the suburbs because being with me is too complicated? Maybe I should be working on persuading you to stay with me." He began nuzzling her neck, his tongue darting out along her collarbone, enjoying the flush he was provoking along her creamy skin.

Amanda shook her head. "That's crazy and you know it. Just promise me… please?" Despite the distraction of the argument, her body was arching toward his like a magnet.

He lifted his head to look into her eyes. "I promise. Scout's honour. It'll be like your alimony, okay?"

She laughed but still looked doubtful. "I don't think you were ever a Scout."

"You might be right," he answered with a dimpled grin. "But I did learn a lot about knots from a girl in Hamburg…" She gasped as his mouth closed around her breast.

"You can tell me all about it… later," she said, rolling onto her back and pulling a laughing Lee with her.

* * *

Amanda, proving to be the morning person she claimed to be, was the first one to drag herself out of their bed and into the shower an hour later. "The clerk's office opens in an hour. If we're really first in line, maybe we can catch an earlier flight and I can be home by the time the boys get home from school."

"I never thought my wife would be so eager to get rid of me," he complained in a joking voice.

"I'm sure your next one won't be," she answered, sticking her head out the bathroom door.

"There won't be a next one," he muttered under his breath. He lay there until she emerged, wrapped in the robe just as she had two days before and once again, his body took notice.

"We could be second in line and be home in time for the boys' dinner," he suggested, but the eyeroll she gave him was answer enough. "Fine," he grumbled, swinging out of bed. "I'll be ten minutes. Fifteen if you join me."

"Only an extra five minutes?" she countered. "I'm not sure that's worth my while."

"Oh I think we both know it would be," he raised an eyebrow and cocked his head toward the shower, grinning when she blushed, suddenly shy again.

"I'm sure it would," she said softly. "But the honeymoon has to end sometime." She reached over to cup his cheek, running her thumb along his lips. "This one anyway."

Lee paused for a moment, watching her turn away and start pulling clean clothes from her bag before shaking his head and turning to shower. He found himself mulling over that promise he'd made her as he showered, then shaved. Maybe she was right, he mused, maybe it was time to at least give in to Billy and accept getting a new partner. He was a good agent, but he knew he was better with someone to bounce stuff off, to have someone at his back. Maybe Francine would be interested in getting back in the field more? He shook his head – bad idea. They'd edged their way back to friendship, better not to screw that up by trying to be partners.

He was still so deep in thought when he walked out of the bathroom with only a towel wrapped around his waist that it took him a beat to realize the figure standing in the middle of the room wasn't Amanda. He froze, letting his eyes meet the implacable ice blue eyes of Boris Volkov, who gazed back with an unfriendly smile.

"Scarecrow, you're underdressed for our little party," he drawled in his thick accent. "Although I'm sure your… wife? …appreciates it." He waved the marriage certificate in his hand to somewhere over Lee's shoulder. His heart in his throat, Lee turned his head to meet Amanda's eyes as she stood rigidly beside Volkov's sidekick, eyes wide with panic and a Glock pointed directly at her head.


	10. Taken

Amanda hadn't even had time to scream when she'd answered the knock at the door and found herself propelled backward into the room with a gun to her temple. The massive stranger who manhandled her against the far wall and put his hand over her mouth had the coldest eyes she'd ever seen, but thankfully, he seemed to be taking his orders from the second man, smaller but with an air of authority. He had followed them into the room at a more leisurely pace, pausing to survey it carefully before muttering something in a foreign language that made her attacker drop his hand from her mouth and sullenly gesture for her not to move.

The man in charge walked across the room and began going through Lee's things – the wallet on the desk, the paperwork piled there: their air tickets, their marriage certificate. When he pulled out the latter and looked it over, he let out a barking laugh and shook his head.

"We don't have anything valuable," she managed to stammer out. "We're just tourists."

"Oh believe me, Madam Stetsonya, you can be valuable to me," he sneered.

Amanda wasn't sure what the accent was, but with Lee's jokes about KGB interrogation the night before running through her mind, she was fairly certain it was Russian, especially with the way he'd just changed her last name.

"I'm not really Mrs. Stetson," she said. "That was a mistake."

The probably Russian man turned to look at the rumpled bed, then back at her with a smirk, looking her over appraisingly, before saying, "Is true you are not Scarecrow's normal choice in women. He is known for his preference for girls with more…" He made a crude gesture with his hands suggesting female curves. "And yet, here is the proof." He held up the certificate again.

"Well, I still don't know what you want or why, but I only met him three days ago," she answered, hating that she couldn't hide the fear in her voice. "And I don't see why a guy who makes films is of any use to you."

Again she'd provoked that humorless laugh. "Films… You are very funny lady." He turned and began pawing through Lee's bag, turning to her with a raised eyebrow when he pulled out a gun to show her before dropping it into his suit jacket, apparently amused by her look of horror.

Everyone froze as they heard the shower shut off and the man walked back to the middle of the room. "Even one little sound of warning from you, and your brains will be decorating that wall, yes?" he said and waited for her to nod. "Good."

It was less than three minutes before Lee walked back out of the bathroom, towel slung around his waist and froze at the sight of the man in front of him. She could barely make out what the man said to him before Lee turned to look for her and, right before her eyes, turned into a clone of the other men in the room. The familiar warmth in his eyes was gone, replaced by stone-cold flint and a muscle jumping in his jaw that suggested he had a tight rein on his temper.

"She doesn't know anything, Volkov," he growled, turning back to stare at the Russian. "Harm one hair on her head and I'll kill you."

The man opposite gave a belly laugh. "I believe that she knows nothing - but that doesn't mean Amanda Stetsonya won't be useful in making you come to heel." He glanced at the paper in his hand again and chuckled. "Married in Las Vegas? So very typically American." He looked at Lee with amusement. "But where are my manners? You must be cold – why don't you get dressed and then we can talk more comfortably?"

Lee moved slowly toward his bag, trying not to turn his back on Volkov.

"Don't bother looking for your weapon," said the Russian in a deceptively amiable voice. "It is safe in my pocket."

Lee's shoulders sagged with frustration, but he quickly pulled on his jeans and a shirt and turned back not to Volkov, but to Amanda. "It'll be fine. They won't hurt you," he said, trying to sound reassuring.

"That's not your promise to make, Scarecrow," interrupted Volkov. "But actually, I have to agree with him, Madam Stetsonya, you will be safe as long as your husband does nothing foolish."

Amanda looked back and forth between the two men with a frightened expression. She wanted to believe Lee, but these men were terrifying and up until five minutes ago, she hadn't even known Lee carried a gun.

"What do you want?" Lee asked in a harsh tone.

Volkov shrugged. "What do any of us want? A warm place to call home, a beautiful woman, a bottle of vodka…" His voice suddenly got more aggressive as he jutted his chin toward Lee. "For my brother not to be in an American military prison."

Lee's hands clenched into fists at his side. "Then your piece of shit brother shouldn't have murdered my partner in cold blood."

"It was necessary," replied Volkov. "He was in the way. But it was not Vanya who killed your partner – it was me." His eyes flicked to Amanda, then back to Lee who now looked even more enraged. "So I would like to make a trade with your government. Spy for spy, yes? I get my baby brother back home to our mother and maybe you get to go home with your wife."

Lee could hear Amanda's quiet sob of fear in the silence that followed. "Fine," he ground out. "But we leave her here. She doesn't need to be involved in this."

Volkov pretended to consider that for a moment before shaking his head. "No, I am not thinking so. You will be behaving better if she comes too, no?" He gestured to his goon to bring Amanda forward and watched as Lee reached to grasp her hand. "We go now. Take elevator to parking garage. And if you try anything foolish, Scarecrow, remember it is Madam Stetsonya who will get hurt, yes?"

"And remember, if you harm her, you will be the next to die," remarked Lee, in an almost conversational tone as he walked to the door. "I owe you one death already."

The foursome walked down the hall to the elevator, stepping into a thankfully empty cabin. Lee sent up a mental prayer that it would remain so – it was enough that there was already one innocent caught up in this without adding more. He glanced sideways and realized Amanda had lifted her gaze heavenward and was mouthing some kind of silent prayer as well. Her free hand was up against her chest, flexing and fidgeting with nerves. He squeezed her hand and waited for her to turn toward him. "It'll be okay," he murmured. "Scout's honour."

Her expression lightened slightly at his words and she nodded before turning back to go back to her prayer. They arrived in the parking garage without incident or other stops and Volkov ushered them to an anonymous rental car, popping the trunk and motioning for them to climb in.

"Are you serious?" asked Lee.

Volkov snapped his fingers. "Of course, you are right – I almost forgot." He pulled out a pair of handcuffs – Lee's, Amanda recognized ruefully – and pulled Lee's hands behind his back to snap them on. "Madam Stetsonya – you first."

Amanda looked at Lee who was looking murderously at Volkov and carefully climbed into the trunk, flattening herself against the back wall, then watched as the Russians forced Lee to climb in after her, rolling him on his side so that they were nose to nose, then slamming the lid shut. In the darkness they felt the car bounce slightly as the two men climbed into the front seat and then the engine started. The trunk lit up briefly as the reverse lights came on and Lee could see Amanda's expressive eyes, wide and frightened watching him.

"Lee?"

"Yeah?"

"You're not really a film producer, are you?" she asked.


	11. Flight Plan

He couldn't help laughing, relieved when she smiled tentatively in response.

"I'm afraid not," he answered. "I'm a federal agent."

"And those guys?"

"Those guys are my worst nightmare," he admitted. "Boris Volkov and his muscle."

"You have a history with him?"

"More than I thought apparently," answered Lee, wriggling to see if he could find something in the trunk to act as a lock pick.

"He said he killed your partner." Amanda could see Lee's face hardening as he remembered that.

"Eric. Eighteen months ago. They picked him off with a sniper rifle while he was sitting on a stakeout. Which was supposed to be _my_ stakeout," he spat out. "Eric died in my place and I put Volkov's brother in prison for it, but it looks like I got the wrong guy too." He wriggled some more, trying to roll over. "Amanda, did you notice if there's anything in here we could use as a weapon?"

She shook her head. "It had a rental plate – there wasn't anything in here."

Lee thought for a moment. "Do you think you can reach past me and try and see if there's a way to pull the wiring on the back lights? With any luck, they'll get pulled over for having no brake lights."

He rolled on his back and tried to make room for her to reach past him. She scrabbled for a few minutes, managing with some effort to break off part of the panel and yank the wires she found behind it. "I got it, but I don't think it's going to help. It's not even 8 am yet; cops aren't watching things like lights not coming on this early in the day. And we'd need a lot more time to actually get that light pushed out so they'd have something to really notice."

"Well, it might still help – and we need all the help we can get right now." She was wriggling back across his chest when he said her name. "Amanda?"

She stopped midway, faces almost touching, her breath soft on his cheek.

"I'm really sorry. You shouldn't be here – you shouldn't be mixed up in any of this. And I swear, I will get you out of this or…" He didn't finish the sentence _or die trying_ but he could see from the way her pupils dilated that she'd finished it in her head anyway.

She dropped her mouth to his and kissed him fiercely. "I know you will," she whispered. "And I told my boys I'd be home soon and by God, nothing is going to stop me from keeping that promise." She shifted so that she was back against the back wall of the trunk, giving him room to breathe again but reached out to rest her fingers on his face.

"Good," he nodded. "You hold onto that thought." He wished he could hold her, to stop the trembling she couldn't hide, shivering even though it had to be 80 degrees in the trunk, and getting hotter every minute.

"What do you think they're planning to do with us?" she asked finally.

"Not sure yet," he answered. "But the way the sun is coming in through the tail light, we're headed north."

"What's north?"

"In the short term, the north airport, in the long term…" he stopped.

"Desert," she supplied.

"Yeah."

There was silence and then her soft voice whispered "Well, let's hope for the airport then."

"That's most likely," he said trying to sound encouraging. "They probably want to smuggle me out of the country to somewhere in South America and hold me for a trade."

"What will they want to do with me then?" Her whispers were getting squeakier as her fear ratcheted up again.

"Don't worry – an innocent civilian is a better bargaining chip for them than an agent any day of the week." He could hear her gulping and knew she was trying very hard not to cry. "Amanda, we'll get out of this, I swear."

He could hear her sniffling slightly before she finally said. "Guess we'll be third in line for the clerk's office now." Despite the rising heat in the trunk, she shifted closer to put her arm around him and rest her forehead against his chest.

"Maybe even fourth. See? You should have come for that shower this morning after all," he teased and heard her give a choke of laughter that didn't quite hide the sob behind it.

"I can't believe I accidentally married James Bond," she muttered, almost sounding cross.

"Boring Dan's looking pretty good right about now, isn't he? Marry him next - third time's the charm they say." He tried to sound like he was teasing, but inside his heart was breaking. This was a hell of a time to recognize that he'd found the person who settled his restlessness with warm hands and a warm heart.

"I think you're my last husband," she sighed. "I don't think I'd be a very good wife after this – I'll stick with trying to be a good mom instead."

"You're already a good mom," he comforted her, pressing his lips against the top of her head. "You'll always have their backs, no matter what, right?"

"Yeah."

They didn't speak after that, both lost in thought about what was going to happen next. They didn't have to wait long to find out; after fifteen minutes or so, the car slowed and turned, then continued at a snail's pace.

"Cessna engine," said Lee, eyes closed and ears straining for any aural clue. "It's the north airport."

"Better than the desert," said Amanda.

"Only if we can keep them from taking us out of the country," answered Lee without thinking. He winced at her sharp intake of breath. "They'll only take me, Amanda. Once I'm on a transport, they'll let you go. Even the KGB draws the line at hurting innocent people – it dirties the water for everyone in the spy business otherwise. Don't worry."

"Don't worry? Don't worry that they're going to bundle you into a plane and take you God knows where?" she whispered back frantically. "Are you crazy?"

"Amanda? If this doesn't turn out the way I hope, promise me something." He waited for her eyes to meet his. "Make sure my boss Billy Melrose knows I married you and that you're my next of kin. The Agency life insurance policy is pretty good – it'll probably put both your boys through college. And don't take any crap from my uncle, okay? He's all bark and no bite really and he'll like you, he really will - he'll know I finally did one thing right."

"Lee Stetson, it is _not_ going to come to that! You said we were getting out of this together!"

"Amanda! Please just give me that one thing. I can't remember if you promised to obey, but you must have promised to honor me, right?"

She glared at him for a beat, tears trickling silently down her cheeks before nodding. "Okay, I promise."

"Good girl," he said, leaning forward to kiss her. "And here's the other thing you have to promise me: if Volkov drops his guard for even a second, you run like hell. You run like your life depends on it – hell, you run like Phillip and Jamie's lives depend on it. You hear me?"

"I hear you," she answered, voice cracking.

The car slowed and came to a stop.

"It's showtime, Sweetheart" said Lee. "Get ready."

A few seconds later, the trunk lid lifted and Lee was being pulled out by Volkov's goon and forced to his knees. Amanda blinked in the sudden bright light before slowly climbing out, and going to stand beside Lee, a hand resting on his shoulder. They were inside a hanger, a small aircraft beside them, its engine already running and a third man, the pilot Amanda assumed, standing beside it, scanning some paperwork. Volkov stalked over to him and had a brief conversation before turning back to them and gesturing with his head to the plane as he walked back toward them.

The silent goon hauled Lee to his feet, and began walking him to the plane, leaving Amanda momentarily unguarded. Lee glanced over his shoulder with a pleading look. "Run," he mouthed.

In the second that Amanda hesitated, Volkov quickened his stride and grabbed her arm. "Oh no, Amanda Stetsonya, do not try anything!" He began pulling her toward the back of the hangar as she struggled to escape. Hearing the commotion, Lee wrenched himself out of his captor's grasp and tried to run toward them, but was caught immediately by the giant Soviet.

"Volkov, what the hell are you playing at? You've got me – let her go!" Lee bellowed as he was shoved inexorably toward the aircraft. The goon opened the plane's large rear door and shoved him in, before slamming it shut and turning back to help Volkov who was still dealing with a frantic Amanda.

She could see Lee struggling to get himself upright in the cramped space and twist his body to open the door again.

"Lee!" she shrieked as she wrenched herself from the hold Volkov had on her and began to run toward the plane. She managed to dodge past the goon advancing on her and make it to the plane, scrabbling to try and open the door.

"Behind you!" she heard Lee shout and turned to see the goon had almost caught up to her. She ducked under the wing and rolled under the plane, grabbing the lanyard on the wheel chocks and pulling them with her as she slid past the front wheel. Bobbing back to her feet, she started trying to open the door on the other side, but before she could, the goon appeared around the front of the plane and advanced on her. She turned, and began swinging the chocks in the air around her head like a lasso, trying to keep him away, even as she became aware that the pilot was coming up behind her.

With a scream of pure fear, she charged toward the goon, knowing she had to get past him to get out the hanger door. Surprised by the sudden attack, he stepped back to avoid the flying chocks and lifted his arm to try and strike her.

Amanda was never quite sure how it happened after that, but she felt the chocks hit the side of his head and somehow in his momentary confusion, he stumbled further backward and directly into the path of the spinning propeller.

With his view blocked by the seats, Lee could see nothing except the sudden spray of blood all over the side of the plane. "Amanda!" he screamed in horror. Out of his peripheral vision, he saw the pilot cover his mouth with his hand and take off running out of the hangar. "Amanda!" he yelled again, twisting to try and get to that side of the plane.

A few seconds later, the door swung open and Amanda was in front of him, eyes wide with shock and drenched in blood. "Lee." He could barely hear her over the engine, but he recognized his name on her lips.

"Oh thank God, I thought…" He glanced toward the front of the plane and back at her where she was beginning to shake with delayed shock. "Where's Volkov?" Amanda stared at him as if she didn't understand the question for a beat then looked around slowly like a sleepwalker. The sudden sound of a gunshot and the splintering of one of the windows snapped her out of it though and she lunged forward to grab Lee by the front of his shirt, with the obvious intention of pulling him out of the plane. Her adrenaline must have been pumping because she almost managed it before she took in what Lee was yelling.

"Amanda! Get in the plane! Get in the plane!"

She looked sideways and realized Volkov had appeared from around the back of the small plane, gun in hand.

"Now!" bellowed Lee, pulling himself backward and praying she wouldn't let go of his shirt. She half-tumbled into the plane, then quickly hauled herself the rest of the way in, just as Volkov fired again. Their jostling was enough to send the plane moving slightly, since it no longer had anything braking the front wheel. "Get up front and drive!"

"Drive? Are you crazy? I don't know how to drive a plane!" she yelled at him, even as she started to clamber over the seats.

"Just pull back on the yoke slowly and let it move by itself – we just need to get out in the open!" he ordered before turning back to see Volkov approaching the still-open door. The KGB agent grasped the sides of the door and started to pull himself in; Lee rolled onto his back and kicked out with both feet, catching the Soviet dead centre of his chest and watched him fall backward just as the Cessna lurched forward, finally bouncing completely clear of the rear chocks.

"Good! Now just keep her aimed at the door and keep going!" he yelled encouragement as he rolled onto his knees and peered out through the windshield – or tried to since it was covered in blood.

"I can't see anything!" Amanda cried.

"Just aim for the light!" he ordered, glancing back to see Volkov running for the car. "He's going to try and cut us off – we need to get out in the open and fast!"

Amanda pulled back on the yoke and Lee felt the plane pick up speed and exit the hangar. "Okay, just keep getting your speed up. There should be windshield wipers – somewhere on your left," he went on. He became aware that he could hear sirens, but couldn't imagine why – everything had happened in the last few seconds, there'd been no time for anyone to call the police over those gunshots. He looked out the side window where he could see Volkov, pulling alongside and leaning out the window to aim his gun at Amanda.

"Faster!" he screamed.

"I can't see where I'm going!" she yelled back. "I can't find the wipers! Oh wait – AHHHHHHHHHH!"

Lee spun to stare out the windshield to see that they were racing at breakneck speed toward a phalanx of police cars with their lights flashing, sirens wailing.

"Pull up!" he screamed, and then his chest seized as Amanda did literally that, pulling the yoke toward herself and the plane lifted off the ground. They were close – too close. He closed his eyes and waited for the crash, but it never came.

"Lee! What do I do?" He could hear the panic in her voice and opened his eyes again, realizing in amazement that they had actually skimmed over the top of the police cars and were now flying steadily a few feet off the ground.

"Push the yoke away from yourself gently," he called out, trying to sound calm as if he had no doubt she could do it. "And when the wheels touch the ground, just apply a little bit of pressure to the brake pedal." He held his breath as she eased the yoke away and then, amazingly, unbelievably, they touched down again.

It was too good to last - he should have known that.

The moment she felt the wheels touch the ground, Amanda slammed on the brake pedal in a panic and the whole plane tipped forward precipitously. Lee braced himself and then, seemingly in slow motion, they flipped over completely, skidding along the runway upside down for several feet. The silence that followed was eerie after the violence that had gone before.

"Amanda?" Before there could be any answer, feet appeared at the open door and hands reached in to grab Lee, pulling him out onto the tarmac with a thump and dragging him away from the smoking wreckage.

"No! No! Amanda's still in there!" He tried to struggle but with his hands still cuffed, all he could do was watch helplessly as police officers swarmed the plane, some with guns drawn as fire engines raced toward them.

"No! She's not the bad guy!" At that moment, his hands suddenly came free as one of the policemen opened the cuffs and he wrenched himself free, racing back toward the plane. "Amanda! Amanda!" He was stopped before he got there by a burly officer who clotheslined Lee in the chest with one arm and actually lifted him right off the ground as he tried to dodge past. He watched with horror as one of the officers backed carefully out of the door, dragging a lifeless and bloodied figure. "Oh God, no!" The policeman felt the fight go out of him and let him go. Lee dropped to his knees, no longer able to hold himself up as the policeman swung her body up into his arms and carried her toward Lee.

"She's breathing," grunted the officer, kneeling and carefully laying her in Lee's outstretched arms. Lee watched as he began running his hands over her, trying to find the wound. "But I don't know how with this much blood loss."

"Most of that isn't hers," said Lee in a hopeful tone. "There was a guy trying to kill us…" He pulled Amanda closer into his arms. "Oh God, don't die on me now."

She stirred slightly, then her eyes fluttered open, confused until they settled on his face. "Lee," she murmured.

The relief flooded through him like a tidal wave at the sight of those dark depths. "I'm here," he crooned, stroking her face. "We're safe."

She was still looking bewildered. "Did we crash?"

Lee looked over at the upside-down plane, which was being sprayed by the fire truck that had arrived a moment earlier. "Just a little bit." He smiled down at her, the adrenaline finally starting to ebb.

"I was flying," she said in that same befuddled tone. "I flew over the police cars."

"Just barely," grinned the officer who'd pulled her from the wreckage. "I think you may have peeled my sergeant's toupee right off his head."

Lee glanced over, taking in the number of cars for the first time. "How the hell did you know? I mean, how did you get here so fast? Volkov only fired a few shots."

"Ah, well, that's down to your missus here," said a police lieutenant who had walked up in time to hear the question. A paramedic dropped to the ground beside them and began examining Amanda.

Lee glanced down at Amanda. Her eyes had closed again, but her hand was still tightly gripping his. "I don't understand."

"Casino security alerted us to a kidnapping in progress 40 minutes ago – we've been tracking you ever since." He grinned at Lee's confused look. "Your wife looked straight at the security camera and asked for help."

"She what?"

"She just kept mouthing 'Help me' over and over and spelling out S-O-S in sign language. The casino camera operators get pretty good at lip reading because they're looking for people trying to scam the games." He shrugged. "She made it pretty easy to know you were in trouble and then it was just a matter of scrambling officers to find the car after you left the garage."

"Sign language?" Lee still felt like he was about a mile behind in the conversation.

"The boys had to learn it for a Trailblazer badge, so all the den mothers learned it too" mumbled Amanda, lifting her free hand to starting to make the same gestures he'd thought was fidgeting in the elevator. She opened her eyes and gave him an exhausted smile. "Good thing one of us was a Scout."


	12. Checking In Again

"Hi, Billy."

Billy Melrose could hear the exhaustion in Lee's voice all the way down the phone line. "Lee? Thank God! What the hell is going on out there? The telexes are piling up on my desk like confetti! When did you taking some time off to sort out a personal matter turn into an international incident?"

"It's a long story," sighed Lee, leaning forward on the desk at the police station and letting his head sink into his hand to block the setting sun that was blinding him through a nearby window. "But Boris Volkov is in custody and his goon Sergei is missing most of his arm."

"I gathered that but why are all these police reports full of stuff about your partner and your wife when you don't have either of those? And who the hell is this Amanda King they all keep mentioning?"

Lee huffed out a tired laugh. "The patron saint of lone wolves apparently." He pulled himself upright and stared at his watch. "Look Billy, if you can get these guys to spring us, we could be on the red-eye home and at least Amanda would be there when her sons wake up."

"Should you be travelling?" asked Billy doubtfully. "You were just in a plane crash, for God's sake!"

"I just have to get her home, Billy. I promise I'll tell you the whole story and spend the rest of the month doing the paperwork if you'll just order these guys to let us out of here."

"I can try, but they're not going to be happy about being left cleaning up all of your mess."

"Tell them they can have all the credit for capturing one of the top guys on America's enemies list, tell them I'll personally recommend everyone in Clark County PD for a Congressional Medal of Honor – honestly I don't care what you tell them as long as I can get Amanda on a plane home like I promised."

"You never did tell me – who the hell is she?"

Lee leaned back and looked across the station where he could see Amanda sipping juice and chatting animatedly to one of the policewomen who'd conducted her interview. She was miraculously uninjured, outside of slight scrapes and a ton of bruises – bruises he knew they'd both be feeling even more tomorrow. They let her shower off the blood in the locker room and someone had found her a t-shirt to replace the blood soaked blouse she'd been wearing, but it was much too big and hung loosely on her willowy frame. He laughed when she moved and he realized the front was emblazoned with ' _Future Rookie of the Year'_. "She's… amazing. You'll love her."

Billy paused, silent at hearing that tone in Lee's voice. "If these reports are accurate, I'm sure I will," he said, finally. "Have you really found yourself a new partner?" he went on, hopefully.

"Something like that," Lee chuckled. "So you'll bust us out of here?"

"As soon as I hang up, I'll be on it," Billy promised.

"Thanks Billy," said Lee with real gratitude. "I'll see you tomorrow." He hung up and dragged himself to his feet, crossing the room to plunk himself down beside Amanda and take her hand. He leaned back against the wall and closed his eyes with a tired sigh.

"Was your boss mad?" she asked immediately after the detective had left them alone.

"That I'm alive and helped capture one of the Soviets' top agents? No, he's not mad." Lee opened one eye and grinned at her. "Maybe a little. I told him it was your fault."

"My fault?" squeaked Amanda "How is it my fault? You were the one with the great idea!" He could tell she wasn't really mad though, by the way she couldn't quite hide the dimple in her cheeks as she pressed her lips together.

"Still seems like a great idea." He leaned in and nuzzled her collarbone where the too-big t-shirt dipped. "But Billy's working on getting us out of here and we should be able to catch the red eye home."

"Really?" Amanda sounded hopeful, but not quite like she believed him. "This seems like a lot of stuff for them to just let us walk out of here."

"Trust me," he murmured against her neck where he was now kissing the pulse point that fluttered there. "You've seen the movies: James Bond always just walks away from the exploding building straightening his cuffs and heading off to bed with the girl."

"Is your life really like that?" Now he could really hear the doubt in her voice and pulled back to look at her properly.

"Not even the littlest bit," he admitted. "But Billy's going to pull some strings and get us home ASAP."

"Okay, good." Amanda sounded relieved, not surprisingly. "Do you think they'd mind if I called my mother to let her know I won't be home until morning?"

"You can't tell her anything – everything that happened today is going to be classified," Lee cautioned. "You'll have to tell her some other excuse for why we're back later than expected."

Amanda looked stricken for a moment at the idea of lying to her mother, before giving one of the low husky chortling laughs he already loved. "No I won't."

"You won't?"

"Nope. I just have to remind her I'm with you and she'll fill in the rest just the way she wants." She glanced down at the bruises on her hands and arms. "But I'm going to have to explain these. I don't want her thinking you caused these."

"In these situations, always stick as close to the truth as you can," Lee counseled her. "You were in a crash. She doesn't need to know you flipped an airplane while being chased by the KGB and twenty squad cars full of Las Vegas' finest."

Amanda looked up at him wide-eyed. "I really did that, didn't I? And here I thought getting accidentally married was going to be the craziest thing that happened to me this week."

"You really did," he grinned. "Boring Dean's really just a blip in your rear view mirror now, I bet."

Amanda stared at him in amazement. "You got his name right! How hard did you hit your head?"

They were both still laughing when the division captain came up to let them know they'd been cleared to leave and that the Agency would be handling the rest of the debrief back in Washington. Lee hustled Amanda out of there before they could change their minds and after a quick trip to the hotel to claim their belongings, they were back en route to the airport with minutes to spare to catch the last flight to Washington that night.

It wasn't until they were approaching the gate that Amanda stopped dead in her tracks and looked at Lee wildly. "Oh my gosh!"

"What?" he asked, honestly confused.

"We never applied for the annulment!" she hissed at him, trying not to be overheard by the bustling crowd. "We can't go home yet!"

"Oh." He looked back at the gate which now had its Boarding sign flashing, then back at Amanda. "Or…"

"Or?" she repeated. "Or what?"

He shrugged. "Or we could just go home and take it from there. I mean, we don't have to rush into anything, do we?"

Amanda gazed at him in shock. "Are you kidding me? _We don't have to rush into anything_?" she repeated in disbelief. "Like we didn't rush into getting married in the first place?"

Lee looked at her sheepishly. "Well, it hasn't been all bad, has it? We could just… y'know… not get the annulment and maybe keep seeing each other?"

Amanda didn't move, except for the tiny details he could see like the dilating pupils and the quickening breath as she took in what he was saying.

Lee held out his hand. "Come on," he said quietly. "Let's just go home."

For a long horrible second he thought she was going to refuse and then, a beat later, she launched herself into his arms, pulling his head down to kiss him. "You are going to be an impossible husband," she said, beaming up at him when they finally came up for breath.

"You're already the impossible wife," he said cheerfully, dropping his arm around her shoulders and steering her back toward the gate. "No one who knows me is going to believe it." He looked thoughtful for a moment. "Do you think your kids will like me?"

"Hard to say," she answered, giving him a demure look from under her lashes. "Dean was going to get Pretzel the Clown to come for Jamie's birthday party – you'll have to top that."

"Getting a clown to a birthday party? Easy-peasy," said Lee, suddenly feeling more cheerful. "We have our ways."

"I thought only Nazis and spies said that."

Lee squeezed her closer as they walked down the jetway to the plane. "Well, at least you know I'm not a Nazi."


End file.
